


Good enough to eat

by MsPeppernose



Series: The Fabulous Baking Boys [2]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Baking, Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Peterick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2759294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsPeppernose/pseuds/MsPeppernose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Extra fluffy Christmas cookie baking, Pete and Patrick style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good enough to eat

Patrick saw Pete's name flash up on his screen when his phone rang. He didn't even get to say hello before Pete started talking.

"Paaaaatrick. You know how it's almost Christmas? And you know how we like to bake?  
"Hi Pete. Yep and yep."  
"Well. Will you help me make Christmas gifts? Like holiday cookies and stuff? It might be cool and they'd make nice handmade gifts, right?"

Patrick chewed on his lip thoughtfully. They had met through baking, and they usually had lots of fun whenever they baked now. And making homemade gifts might be really nice. 

"Sure," he says grudgingly. "Why not?" The only reason why not he could think of is that the build up to the festive season was so busy already, without adding in baking four million cookies for everyone Pete has ever met. But if it made Pete happy then he would concede.

"Awesome. I'll come over later and we can make a plan."

*

"You know, Pete," Patrick said between Pete's kisses, "when you said you'd come over to plan, I thought there might be more actually planning involved. Not that I'm complaining." Pete was draped over Patrick, fingers drawing lazy little circles in Patrick's hair. His kisses were slow and sweet, and Patrick didn't exactly want them to stop, but he knew that they wouldn't ever get anything sorted out if they didn't do it soon. Time had a way of escaping from them when they spent the evenings wrapped around each other on the sofa.

"Okay, fine. But after that there should be more kissing. Okay?"  
"Of course."

Pete pressed a single kiss to Patrick's lips and then untwined himself. He settled at one end of the sofa with his feet in Patrick's lap, pen and paper in hand, all ready to go. Then he looked at Patrick, pensive, waiting. "So. Plan?"

Patrick grinned. "This is your idea, Pete. Any idea where to start?"  
"Christmas cookies? What are holiday cookies? Maybe those little sugar cookies? Or something like them? We can totally make those ones, right?" Pete chewed on the end of his pen and then drew little circles in the corner of the page. Patrick thought they were probably supposed to be cookie drawings.  
"Easily. What else? What about fudge? My mom used to make fudge. We can cut it up in little cubes and fill jars with it. One batch makes tons."  
"Fuck yeah, I like fudge." His voice was dripping with enthusiasm and his eyes were wide.  
"Pete." Patrick's tone had a warning air to it. He knew how their baking usually went. What normally happened was that about seventy percent went on to be cooked, and the rest went in Pete's mouth before it ever got to see an oven. "You know it's for giving as gifts and not just for us to eat?"

"Yeah, I know. But we have to taste test everything before we give it away. That's important." Pete looked completely serious, and Patrick gave in. He might have a point. Not much use giving gifts to people if they tasted terrible, they would need to do quality control. Bonus that that involved eating their produce.

"What else can we make?" Pete looked thoughtful and then his face changed, like a little lightbulb had gone on somewhere under his emo fringe. He quickly set about drawing something and when he was done he turned it around to show Patrick. Patrick smiled when he saw the crude picture of a little, blobby, person-shaped cookie. "Gingerbread men. We gotta make gingerbread men. We can frost little faces and details onto them."  
"Cool. That sounds like a proper plan."  
"Fantastic," Pete said. He carefully put his pen and paper down on the floor and then crawled back into Patrick lap. He licked his lips and then gave Patrick several little kisses on the corner of his mouth. "If the plan is done, then it's kissing time again."

Patrick ginned back against Pete's kisses. Now _that_ sounded like a plan.

*

"Are you sure we have everything?" Patrick asked. Their shopping cart had a decent amount in it, he was almost certain that they had everything for the holiday baking session, but they had to be sure. It would start to get difficult if they began baking and then had to run out for more things. This needed to go smoothly, or he knew that they would get distracted and the baking would be abandoned with no baked gifts and nothing to even taste test.

"I think so." Pete had a little crumpled piece of paper in his hand with a long list of ingredients written on it. He studied it carefully and moved his finger down the list like he was mentally ticking things off. "Okay, yeah. We got everything. But wait. Can we get these?" Pete held up a packet of edible glittery stars and then picked up another one of gaudy red sparkles.

"We won't need them, Pete."  
"We might."  
"We totally won't. We have enough."  
"Come on. We need glitter." Pete started to sound indignant. "It's Christmas. If we can't make obnoxiously glittery edible treats at Christmas when can we make them?"  
"You made some just last month!"  
"I'm getting them. We need them." He sounded resolute and Patrick knew that he wouldn't be able to argue with him. Pete picked up another packet, this time tiny edible silver balls. "These too. You’re just not in the festive spirit yet, Trick. But you will be."  
"Fine." They really weren't the worst things that Pete could have picked. Patrick was glad he hadn't seen the little sugar paste reindeer decorations or they would end up blowing their whole budget on just the cookie toppings.

Patrick surveyed the contents of the cart. They had a lot, but it would all get used. They had picked up a whole bunch of kitchen utensils and other things like piping bags and novelty shaped cookie cutters at a dollar store, so they were now all set to bake their asses off.

*

The cookies that they settled on making were shortbread cookies over sugar cookies; a really quick and simple recipe. Cookies they could do easily at this stage. Pretty much any cookies were easy-peasy now compared to when they started baking. The recipes might differ from cookie to cookie, but they had their technique down.

Pete hummed happily as he combined the ingredients that Patrick had weighed out. No matter how often they did baking together, Pete still seemed to be just as excited and just as in awe as when they first did it. He marvelled in the science of it; that these raw ingredients could somehow become a delicious cake or batch of cookies, like it was magic rather than chemistry. It never failed to make Patrick's heart seize up and skip several beats as he watched him. 

Pete stirred with a wooden spoon and when everything was mostly mixed he got a wicked grin on his face and put the spoon down.

"I love this bit."  
"I know, Pete." Patrick watched him roll his sleeves up and stuck both hands into the bowl. He would admit that this bit was pretty fun and he enjoyed kneading the dough himself, but he always let Pete do it. Pete seemed to get more enjoyment out of bashing and squashing up a bowl of dough than anyone he had ever met. He beamed at Patrick as the dough began to take the shape of a ball, all combined and almost ready to roll out.

"It feels nice. Sort of sexy and satisfying," Pete explained, locking eyes with Patrick as he worked.  
"Sexy? I don't think anyone has ever told me they have a cookie dough kink before." That made Pete laugh.  
"Not a kink. It just feels nice." Pete looked amused. "I bet I could make it kinky though." He narrowed his eyes and made an exaggerated sexy face at Patrick as he kneaded the dough again. "Feels so good, Patrick." Pete groaned animatedly and Patrick flicked flour at him.  
"You're a brat, Pete."  
Pete just grinned. "Yes I am."

Patrick rolled out the dough and they cut out as many holiday themed shapes as they could using their dollar store cookie cutters; Christmas trees, stars, a candy cane shape, and a miscellaneous cutter that might have been a Santa Claus, or possibly a snowman.

They set them all neatly and carefully on a cookie sheet and placed them in the oven. 

Their frosting was in green, red, white and black and Patrick filled piping bags, one for each colour. He fitted each bag with the smallest nozzle that they had to make sure they would get some good details into the cookies. Then he thought of all the edible glitter they had bought that he knew would end up smothering the cookies like an avalanche and wondered if there had been any point in that at all.

They set to work frosting all of the little cooked shortbread cookies. Most of the designs were kept very simple. Little outlines on the star cookies, coloured baubles on the Christmas tree cookies (which Pete then stuck silver balls on top of), red and white candy stripes on the candy canes and faces on the Santa Claus / snowman miscellaneous shape. Most of them were simple and festive, and Patrick thought maybe even a bit professional looking. Most of them indeed. Some of them were the exact opposite and were a mishmash of curly abstract designs, expletives, mini illustrations of god-knows-what and an abundance of glitter.

"Isn't that too much glitter, Pete?"  
"No such thing, Pattycakes. Not such thing."

A dozen of the cookies that Pete is working on were simple circle shaped cookies; perfectly sized for message writing. They were perfectly sized to write a lovely holiday message such as 'Merry Christmas'. Pete had other ideas.

"Merry Fucking Christmas? Happy Fucking Holidays? Pete-."  
"You don't like them?" Pete sounded almost hurt. It wasn't that Patrick didn't like them, it was more that they weren't quite as appropriate as sweet little Christmas cookies. Patrick couldn't really imagine giving a batch of these ones to Pete's mom, all gifted boxed and tied with a bow.  
"Don't worry. I won't give them to anyone who will be offended. Maybe Gabe? If we had made vegan ones I'd have said Andy, but -"  
"Okay. Just don't mix them up. My mom likes you. She'll forgive you for them, but she won't forgive me if we give her cookies that say "Come Sit On Santa's Lap', will she?"

They made quick work of the rest of them and Patrick was really pleased when their first task in the Christmas Baking Extravaganza was completed. They looked fantastic.

"Gorgeous. We are baking geniuses!" 

*

Patrick had been a little apprehensive about the fudge. Or a lot apprehensive, really. Although it had been his idea, once he had considered it he thought it might not have been the best idea he'd ever had. He had spoken to his mom and got her recipe and all of the intricacies of making it. Fudge was tricky to make because it had to get incredibly hot in order to turn into that gorgeous silky and gooey consistency. He'd watched his mom make it before. It was tough. If it wasn't cooked for long enough it was gritty and grainy and not nice. If it was cooked for too long it could burn. Add to that the fact that boiling sugar was like having a pot full of molten lava on the stove and it was going to be the toughest of their holiday treats to make

"Pete. Listen to me." Patrick winced watching Pete with wooden spoon in hand, stirring and stirring, and never stopping. The not stopping was very important. If the stirring stopped the sugar would burn and spit and it would be ruined. "Please. Be. Careful."  
"I will." Pete stood at the stove while the pot of thick molten sugar bubbled and boiled. He threw Patrick a look but stirred the pot in quick circles. Patrick watched him nervously, nipping at his own fingernails. Molten sugar was one thing. Molten sugar being stirred by Pete Wentz was a whole other level of possible danger. 

Up until now the fudge had been going really well. Patrick hadn't even really felt the need to supervise. Pete measured out sugar, condensed milk and butter and as they slowly melted over the heat of the stove, Pete's apartment started to smell fucking _divine_ ; all buttery and delicious. Once the consistency changed from melted to ridiculously hot and bubbling, Patrick's heart started to clench up with nervous anticipation. It could easily go wrong and he really didn't want Pete to get burned.

Patrick made a mental note, that if they are ever silly enough to attempt making fudge again that he will invest in a sugar thermometer, an actual culinary device that would take the guess work out of it for them so that they could do it more safely and not have go by when it "looks fudge-y". By the time the mixture was at the correct consistency, Patrick's nails were down to almost nothing, but Pete had been very careful with his stirring. Maybe Patrick hadn't given him enough credit. They added vanilla and it smelled even more amazing, and Patrick thought that when it was set and cooled, there was a very strong possibility that more of it would end up eaten by them than the supposed recipients, but whatever. The next step was to pour it into a baking tin and leave it to cool down. Easy, right? 

"Patrick, it looks so amazing, it's all gooey. Can I stick my finger in it?" Pete said, and he looked like he meant it. Patrick would swear he saw Pete's fingers twitch towards the smooth surface of liquid-hot fudge.  
"Jesus, Pete! No! It's about a million degrees. It will take your skin off." Patrick wondered if restraints would too severe to use during cooking. Pete Wentz might be the death of him.  
"I bet it tastes really good."  
"It will. Just be patient, you can eat it when it's cooled."  
"But that'll take _hours_!" He whined. And pouted a little. He looked like he was a heartbeat away from stamping his foot.  
"Emergency room will take longer if you burn yourself, Pete." Pete's pout deepened.  
"What do I do until then?"

Patrick took Pete's hand, partly so that it would be occupied in his and so that Pete wouldn't burn his fingers down to the bone by dipping them in the lava-fudge. He pulled him closer and kissed him, making sure to kiss the pout away. "You'll think of something. I'm sure of it."

*

The gingerbread dough was much the same technique as the shortbread cookies. There was more measuring and mixing by Patrick and more suggestive kneading of the dough by Pete. He grinned and wiggled his hips at Patrick while he did it and Patrick couldn't help but laugh along with him. Pete might be good at acting like a goofball at times but at least he was highly amusing while he's doing it. The spices that they used to flavour the gingerbread were aromatic and gorgeous and when they filled Patrick nose he felt much more festive. Nothing like cinnamon and ginger and nutmeg to make him wish he was curled up in front of an open fire, drinking spiced hot chocolate and watching Christmas movies or something equally as seasonal. He should probably even be wearing a cosy Christmas sweater. 

Maybe that was all a little over the top, but the point was that he felt much more in the holiday spirit now.

They cut out as many little gingerbread people as they could from their carefully rolled out dough ("not just gingerbread _men_ , that's sexist"). Once they were all lined up on the cookie sheets and baking in the oven, Patrick set up the frosting. The frosting on the gingerbread people had to be precise because the cookies are pretty small and it they wanted details they'd have to be accurate with them. 

Patrick got to work on filling in little details; just little happy faces or red scarves or green buttons on the gingerbread people. Pete looked completely into it and spent a long time on each of them, giving attention to each and every one that he worked on.

"You can't draw dicks on gingerbread men, Pete!" Pete smile was positively wicked as he continued to draw little frosting details on the cookie's nether regions.  
"I totally can."  
"Who are these ones for?"  
"Joe." Pete said and Patrick sighed. Yeah, Joe wouldn't mind such things. "He'll love them." Patrick knew that Pete was right.  
"Fine. But maybe keep the rest of them less riské?"

Pete flashed his villainous, toothy grin again at Patrick and went back to work on more little pastry people.

"Is that-?" Patrick stopped himself. He looked down at the two little gingerbread people that Pete had been working on. He might have spent more time decorating these ones than any of the others, but it was worth it.  
"Yep." Pete looked proud, but cautious. He stuffed his hands into his front pockets and bounced on the balls of his feet.  
"It's us?"  
"You and me, Pattycakes. You like them?"  
"Are you kidding me? That's amazing." The little gingerbread people had enough characteristics to determine that they were in actual fact a mini, edible Pete and Patrick. The little Pete cookie had a sweeping lock of frosted black hair in Pete's emo style, and the little Patrick cookie had glasses and a little frosted hat that he was sure was a fedora. Patrick was completely knocked sideways by how adorable they were.  
"Who are these ones for?"  
"For you, silly." Patrick grinned at that. He wanted to kiss Pete. Though he usually wanted to kiss Pete.  
"If I eat my gingerbread-self is that cannibalism? Or am I just supposed to eat the Pete one?"  
"Haven't figured that out. But they're for you, you can eat them both."

Pete slid an arm around Patrick's waist and pressed their sides together. They both stood for a second, looking at the little gingerbread people.  
"Thank you." Patrick places a small kiss on Pete's cheek and felt Pete smile as he leaned his weight against Patrick.  
"No problem. Glad you like 'em."  
"I really do." Patrick wasn't sure that he'd be able to bring himself to eat the mini versions of them, not anytime soon at least. But he loved them.

Pete hopped up onto the only free space on the kitchen table, narrowly missing landing his ass in trays of cookies. He swung his legs back and forth and surveyed the huge amount of work they had done. Once they boxed and packaged everything up they would have tons of really nice homemade gifts for friends and family. Pete looked proud, and Patrick felt just as proud.

"We did good, Pete. Go us," Patrick beamed and held his palm up for a high five which Pete returned. Pete tugged at Patrick's hoody sleeve until he moved closer and then pulled him in tight so that he was in the vee of Pete's thighs. Pete wrapped his arms around Patrick and kissed him on the forehead. Patrick leaned forward against Pete and held him close.  
"Thanks for helping me."  
"You know me, I'm a sucker for homemade cookies."

Pete reached between them and stuck his hand into his hoody pocket. He pulled out a leafy little twig with white flowers on it. Holding it up above Patrick's head and grinning, he pressed his mouth to Patrick's. 

"You're joking, right? Is that mistletoe? You know I would kiss you anyway? You don't need that?"  
"I had to be sure. Maybe all my nasty, glittery cookies put you off and I'd have to woo you again."  
"Never."

Pete held the mistletoe over Patrick's head and kissed him again.

"You're so fucking cheesy, Pete." Pete grimaced and then smiled and pressed another kiss to Patrick's mouth.  
"I thought it was more romantic than cheesy but, yeah. That's the way you like it."  
"Yeah."


End file.
